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Ill husbandry braggeth
To go with the best:
Good husbandry baggeth
Up gold in read more
Ill husbandry braggeth
To go with the best:
Good husbandry baggeth
Up gold in his chest.
- Thomas Tusser,
He allows very readily, that the eyes and footsteps of the master
are things most salutary to the land.
read more
He allows very readily, that the eyes and footsteps of the master
are things most salutary to the land.
[Lat., Oculos et vestiga domini, res agro saluberrimas, facilius
admittit.]
The diligent farmer plants trees, of which he himself will never
see the fruit.
[Lat., Abores serit diligens read more
The diligent farmer plants trees, of which he himself will never
see the fruit.
[Lat., Abores serit diligens agricola, quarum adspiciet baccam
ipse numquam.]
Ill husbandry lieth
In prison for debt:
Good husbandry spieth
Where profit get.
read more
Ill husbandry lieth
In prison for debt:
Good husbandry spieth
Where profit get.
- Thomas Tusser,
Our rural ancestors with little blest,
Patient of labour when the end was rest,
Indulg'd the day read more
Our rural ancestors with little blest,
Patient of labour when the end was rest,
Indulg'd the day that hous'd their annual grain,
With feasts, and off'rings, and a thankful strain.
E'en in mid-harvest, while the jocund swain
Pluck'd from the brittle stalk the golden grain,
Oft have read more
E'en in mid-harvest, while the jocund swain
Pluck'd from the brittle stalk the golden grain,
Oft have I seen the war of winds contend,
And prone on earth th' infuriate storm descend,
Waste far and wide, and by the roots uptorn,
The heavy harvest sweep through ether borne,
As light straw and rapid stubble fly
In dark'ning whirlwinds round the wintry sky.
A field becomes exhausted by constant tillage.
[Lat., Continua messe senescit ager.]
A field becomes exhausted by constant tillage.
[Lat., Continua messe senescit ager.]
Look up! the wide extended plain
Is billowy with its ripened grain,
And on the summer winds read more
Look up! the wide extended plain
Is billowy with its ripened grain,
And on the summer winds are rolled
Its waves of emerald and gold.
Happy he who far from business, like the primitive are of
mortals, cultivates with his own oxen the fields read more
Happy he who far from business, like the primitive are of
mortals, cultivates with his own oxen the fields of his fathers,
free from all anxieties of gain.
[Lat., Beatus ille qui procul negotiis,
Ut prisca gens mortalium,
Paterna rura bobus exercet suis,
Solutus omni faenore.]